Chapter 633
At this moment, Franklin was already close to his limit.
The constant use of Nen bullets had severely drained his aura reserves. In contrast, the woman's aura consumption was much lighter. As a result, she fought patiently, intending to wait until Franklin's aura was depleted—then she would launch a fierce assault to kill him.
But Nobunaga's sudden intervention disrupted her plan.
Her expression darkened slightly.
"Bang!"
A loud sound rang out.
Feitan had finally found an opportunity to close in on the flute-wielding woman, thanks to Phinks keeping her distracted. Without hesitation, he lunged forward. His blade flashed multiple times in the blink of an eye, like a blooming flower.
But just as his strikes were about to land—
The flute-wielding woman vanished.
In her place stood her Nen beast. She had switched positions with it. Feitan's flurry of attacks landed on the beast instead, slashing it all over. It staggered from the damage.
She quickly diverted a portion of her aura to the beast, trying to repair its injuries.
But this gave Phinks his chance.
He was already spinning his arm—one circle, two circles, three...
Dozens of rotations followed.
An immense amount of aura gathered around Phinks's fist. The pressure radiating from him far exceeded even Uvogin's Big Bang Impact.
That was only natural. Phinks's overall strength was slightly below Uvogin's, but only just. While Uvogin could use Big Bang Impact at will, Phinks's Ripper Cyclotron required time and effort. The technique placed a heavy burden on his arm. If, after all that, it wasn't stronger than Big Bang Impact, Phinks would be laughably weak by comparison. The difference wouldn't be minor—it would be enormous.
He launched a punch.
It struck one of the flute-woman's Nen beasts squarely.
The blow tore a hole through it, and the beast stumbled backward.
The next moment—
"Bang!"
The Nen beast vanished.
Phinks's eyes lit up. "Feitan! These beasts can be destroyed!"
The disappearance of the beast gave him hope for a faster victory.
Earlier, when the first beast was injured, the woman had restored it with aura. But this one—after suffering heavier damage—vanished completely. That meant her beasts had limitations. They couldn't be healed unconditionally. If the damage exceeded a threshold, they would disappear.
And summoning them again likely required other conditions.
This was their opening.
Feitan nodded. In the next instant, he accelerated—darting rapidly across the battlefield, keeping both the woman and her beasts occupied.
Before, Phinks had created openings for Feitan.
Now, Feitan returned the favor.
It wasn't that Feitan lacked a stronger attack—he did have one—but its activation conditions were strict. Worse still, it affected everyone, including allies. Unless absolutely necessary, Feitan wouldn't use it.
Phinks spun his arm again—one circle, two, three... dozens.
Crack...
A strange sound came from his arm. Phinks's expression shifted slightly, but he didn't stop.
"Ripper Cyclotron!"
He launched another punch.
It hit one of the woman's remaining beasts.
"Bang!"
The massive creature burst into smoke and vanished.
Phinks began spinning his arm again.
The flute-woman stared at him intently.
"Damn it!"
She resumed playing, and the melody grew harsher, more piercing.
Phinks suddenly saw illusions in front of his eyes—phantoms that clouded his vision. He shook his head furiously, trying to dispel them, but it had little effect.
Then, pain shot through him. The illusions disappeared.
He looked down at his arm.
It was twisted, deformed from too many rotations. Blood seeped through the skin, dripping steadily to the ground.
"Phinks!" Feitan shot a glance in his direction.
"I'm fine!"
Phinks's voice was tight. He gritted his teeth and threw his punch.
He knew this strike would likely render his right arm unusable for at least half a month. But he launched it anyway.
"Bang!"
The woman's final Nen beast vanished.
Feitan gave Phinks a quick glance—then without looking back, charged toward the flute-woman.
He understood what he needed to do.
Looking at Phinks now wouldn't help. What he needed to do was end the fight—fast.
Without her beasts, the woman's strength had dropped significantly. She could only retreat under Feitan's relentless assault. She no longer had time to play her flute.
Feitan's attacks grew more vicious.
Pfft!
He found an opening.
His blade sliced her arm.
It was the start of a breakthrough. He kept targeting her arm, over and over.
Pfft!
Another wound opened.
She clenched her teeth, swinging her flute at him.
Feitan sneered. "That's it?"
He caught the attack with one hand. With the other, he plunged his blade into her abdomen, twisted it, then pulled it out.
Blood sprayed from the wound.
Feitan appeared behind her.
Pfft!
Another precise strike and she staggered.
Feitan didn't hesitate. He raised his blade toward her neck—
Pfft!
In the next second, her head separated from her body. The corpse collapsed.
Her severed head flew high, tumbling through the air before finally landing, rolling a dozen meters.
Her eyes were wide in disbelief, as if she hadn't expected to die like this.
The flute-woman was dead.
But just as the members of the Phantom Troupe turned their attention toward the scene—
A sudden change occurred.
The brute, who had been severely wounded and unable to move, suddenly stood up.
And he moved with the agility of someone completely unhurt.
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